


i'm your light

by significant-turtleduck (space_feminist)



Series: darkness and light [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fire Nation (Avatar), Homophobia, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunions, War Trauma, dealing with the guilt of having been complicit in an imperialist conquest, y'know typical jeong jeong stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_feminist/pseuds/significant-turtleduck
Summary: After the liberation of Ba Sing Se, Jeong Jeong goes to live with his ex-lover Piandao in Shu Jing.
Relationships: Jeong Jeong/Piandao (Avatar)
Series: darkness and light [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017085
Comments: 15
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT'S UP RAREPAIR NATION!!! here is the first chapter of my promised pianjeong fic. special thanks to abby [acezukos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplefennels7/pseuds/acezukos) for her fantastic [burn bright, burn fast](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924690) series that got me hooked on this pairing and served as an inspiration for this fic.
> 
> the title of this fic comes from "all night" by beyoncé, the final song on [my pianjeong playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0zmGqp31jmvV8V6mkwYLVU?si=PA08G69TQwiTXGDJi3yUng). it goes in chronological order of their relationship, so if you check it out you might get some hints about the forthcoming prequel :eyes emoji:

The morning after the comet, the sun rose over the great walls of Ba Sing Se, illuminating the cracked stone with bright, natural light. Flags of vivid Earth Kingdom green blew in the wind, and charred scraps of red fabric swirled around the ground. The streets were littered with debris from the battle, loose stones from the wall and wooden boards from the homes and crumpled steel from the tanks, but the people who walked the streets did so not with fear on their faces, but with joy. Blood stained the sidewalks, but even so, music could be heard to play, and the cobblestones vibrated with dance and earthbending ball games. The bright dawn, it seemed, brought with it a hope that bathed everything in a soft glow.

Jeong Jeong and Piandao looked over the scene, the White Lotus camp at their backs, robes rippling in the breeze.

“Zuko promised he’d pardon all deserters when he became Fire Lord,” Jeong Jeong finally said, his eyes following a child who ran through the street laughing. “I’m not a wanted man anymore.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling Piandao this. Maybe the dawn light was contagious, making him wish for things that would never come to pass.

“What are you going to do?” Piandao asked.

A gruff chuckle. “I never thought this would happen. I…don’t know.”

“You never had faith that the Avatar would return?”

“I didn’t plan on it.”

Piandao hummed thoughtfully. “You could come with me to my estate in Shu Jing,” he said. “It’s quiet. There’s a lot of space.”

Jeong Jeong heard the words unspoken in the offer, and he closed his eyes. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine a future. A garden, a courtyard, his head in his lover’s lap, the sunlight streaming down. Hands intertwined, tea and laughter and games of pai sho without hidden tactical meanings. The unfamiliar feeling of hope caught in his throat. This was a grace he didn’t deserve, not after what he did. He had lost the chance for a soft life a long time ago.

“I don’t expect anything from you that you aren’t ready to give.” Piandao’s voice was soft, even raspier than usual.

 _That’s not the problem_ , he wanted to say. _You have no reason to grant me this forgiveness. I left you behind without a word or a sign, and the worst part is that I’d do it again because I couldn’t stay, not after what I’d seen, what I knew I had done as a leader in that awful war. You were a simple soldier, a non-bender who could claim to be simply a cog in the machinery of war, not its driver. Not like I was, flames from my own body blazing the path of destruction. I couldn’t stay, and I couldn’t drag you down with me. The nature of our relationship put you in enough danger as it was._

“Your offer is generous,” Jeong Jeong said.

“It’s the least I can do for an old friend.”

Jeong Jeong didn’t turn to look at his old lover’s face, but he heard the fondness in the words, and it gutted him. _An old friend_. Yes, before anything else, they had been friends. When they were proud and brave and young, before they knew the horrors of war and the brutality of their nation. Jeong Jeong had long ago resigned himself to the knowledge that he could never go back to that time of blissful ignorance, could never un-shatter the illusion. The stench of burning flesh, the smoke choking the air, the barren land in their wake, the hollowed out villages and broken people, the bloody clash of swords and sickening crush of boulders, were burned into his mind as surely as the Earth Kingdom ships burned with his own fire. Their relationship, their lives, could never be as they were.

“Jeong Jeong?” Piandao said gently.

But Piandao had to know that. He’d left too, and if the rumors were true, had resisted every attempt to bring him back. And now the war was over, and they had played their part in ending it. They could never go back to a time before they knew of the war, but maybe they could have a place in a world without it, on an isolated estate away from prying eyes.

He bowed his head slightly. “I will join you,” he said. A pause. “Thank you.”

The breeze blew across the great walls, with a coolness that hinted at the autumn to come. The summer, the season of fire, was coming to its end. A new world was beginning, and for the first time in years, Jeong Jeong allowed himself to hope.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you noticed, i originally marked this as having 3 chapters, but i decided that i'd rather not leave you hanging. this is the end of this fic, but i will have more pianjeong in the future. stay tuned :)

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the castle’s dining room, warming Jeong Jeong’s firebender _chi_ and invigorating him with its strength. It illuminated the face of the man sitting across from him, chiseled features and strong brows and brown skin. A vision in the morning light, as beautiful as he was the day they met all those years ago. Age had not dimmed him; it had instead given him distinction. He was no longer the young orphan soldier desperate to prove himself – he was a revered master, with refined manners and a careful tongue that never spoke recklessly. A picture of self-control, back straight and proud even kneeling at the low breakfast table.

The silence between them, that often fell over their morning tea, was a comfortable one. The promise of no expectations made manifest. Gone were the days of the clandestine rendezvous, of frantic, stolen moments, and gone, too, were the days of loss and distance. They spoke when they wanted to and were silent when they wanted to, the space between them never more or less than they needed.

It was a bit of a shock, then, when Piandao lowered the scroll he was perusing and locked eyes with Jeong Jeong.

“Do you want something?” he said.

Jeong Jeong met his gaze levelly. “No. Why do you ask?”

“You were looking at me,” Piandao said.

“Why does that matter?”

Piandao put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Never mind, then.” He picked up his scroll again.

Jeong Jeong dropped his gaze down into his teacup. What was he supposed to do, tell Piandao that he still found him attractive after all these years? Disrupt this new and fragile relationship between them? No.

That said, he _did_ feel a twinge of guilt at being so rude, and – in the interest of maintaining this agreeable co-existence – he supposed it couldn’t hurt to be slightly more pleasant.

“What are you reading?” he asked, trying his best to sound interested.

“The inventory list for today’s delivery to the weapons shop. _Riveting_ stuff.”

“Ah,” Jeong Jeong said, and he felt the conversation fizzle like a dud firework. So much for _that_.

They lapsed into silence again, and Jeong Jeong closed his eyes. He focused on the warmth of the sun, on the chirping birds and soft crinkling of Piandao’s scroll, the weight of the teacup in his hands. His breath was steady, in and out, and for a moment, felt at peace. He took a sip of his tea and opened his eyes.

Only to find that this time, Piandao was staring at him.

He set his teacup down with a _thunk_. “You’re _looking_ at me, Piandao. Do you _want_ something?”

“Yes,” Piandao said, ignoring the sarcasm. “I was wondering if you would like to bring my newest swords into town today.”

Jeong Jeong arched an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you have servants for that?”

“I do,” Piandao said. “But you haven’t left the estate since you arrived.”

“It’s a large estate,” Jeong Jeong countered. “And I don’t recall _you_ leaving either.”

“I have many visitors,” Piandao replied, unfazed. “You don’t speak to anyone but me.”

_I don’t want to speak to anyone else_. “And being your delivery boy will surely bring me fine conversation and companionship.”

Piandao raised his eyebrows slightly. “Well, I suppose after living in the woods so long, simple human interaction may be difficult for you.”

Oh, he knew just how to jab, how to strike with his words as cleverly as his sword. “I talked to people,” Jeong Jeong said, and it came out far more petulant than he wanted it to.

“That’s not what Chey told me,” Piandao said, his steady demeanor unflappable. “He said that you mostly sat in your hut and meditated, not allowing anyone to disturb you.”

“You talked to Chey?”

“I wanted to meet your new friends.”

Jeong Jeong snorted. “They weren’t my friends.”

“Evidently.”

Jeong Jeong sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You have to understand, Piandao. They thought I was a legend. The firebending _prodigy –”_ he spat the word _“–_ who deserted.”

The teasing smirk that had lingered at the edges of Piandao’s expression suddenly vanished, and his tone went somber. “Oh. I see,” he said.

The words of a younger man flashed through Jeong Jeong’s mind, all bitter sharp sarcasm – “ _It must be so difficult, being praised all the time, being treated as if you are worth something”_. The justified anger of a man often underestimated. What a difference there was between that man and the man Jeong Jeong came to know, between that man and the one that sat before him now. This man spoke with the sharpness of earlier sheathed, giving simple syllables of sympathy a weight, deliberate and heavy.

_He remembered._

“If it helps,” the man continued, hesitantly, “No one in Shu Jing will know who you are. Your wanted poster was not circulated in the Fire Nation proper, only in the colonies.”

“Hmph,” Jeong Jeong said. “You’re _really_ set on having me deliver your swords.”

“I just think it would be good for you to get out. It can get lonely living here.”

It suddenly dawned on Jeong Jeong that the request wasn’t meant as an insult. Piandao was genuinely concerned for his well-being. The sensation was unfamiliar, and something flickered to life in his chest. Something that felt like a flame, but warm, comforting, not the all-consuming, destructive fire that he had grown to loathe.

He groaned. “Fine. If it means so much to you, I’ll deliver your swords. Happy?”

Piandao took a dainty sip of tea, a small smile creeping across his face. He set the cup down. “Quite.”

* * *

Jeong Jeong tugged the reins, and the ostrich-horse stopped at the back entrance of the address Piandao had given him. The back door opened, and a young man poked his head out. He looked the cart up and down, noting the distinctive lotus design on the side. Piandao’s branding was nothing if not obvious. “Ah, the delivery from Master Piandao. I’m Jian.” He gave a short bow, an appropriate greeting between two equals.

Jeong Jeong dipped his head into a small nod. “Li,” he said, and climbed down from the cart. “I’m to help you unload this, correct?”

“Yep!” Jian said cheerfully, and propped the door open with a rock before heading over to the back of the cart. He grabbed one end of the large case, and Jeong Jeong grabbed the other.

Oh, if Jeong Jeong’s fellow soldiers could see him now, a revered admiral the equal of a humble shop worker. He took a certain satisfaction in imagining the crowd of disappointed faces. How far he’d fallen, and how little he’d rose. He could have leveraged his connections to earn a place in the court of the Fire Lord, or to retire adorned in medals of honor. They would never understand that this simple shop worker had a far more honorable profession than any monarch’s lackey or imperial soldier, and that Jeong Jeong never wanted to be close to power like that again. Even if the new Fire Lord was, admittedly, much better than the old one.

“So how long have you been working for Master Piandao? I haven’t seen you before.”

Jeong Jeong almost dropped his end of the case. Oh, the stockworker was _chatty_. “I’m new,” he said shortly.

“I didn’t know he was hiring! If I did, I might’ve applied. Seems like he’d be an interesting man to work for.”

“How so?”

They set the case down on a shelf in the back room, and Jian looked a bit uncomfortable. Jeong Jeong wondered if he’d asked the question too accusingly. He didn’t exactly have a good gauge for that sort of thing.

“Well, his swords are so _artistic_ ,” Jian said. “But nobody in town knows anything about him, he just stays hidden away in his estate. He’s a bit mysterious.”

Jeong Jeong stifled a chuckle. “He’s a good man,” he said. _Though a bit of a hypocrite. The town hermit, insisting that I go out and talk to people._

“I’m sure he is! I hear he treats his employees well.”

“He does.”

Jian nodded. “Wait here for a moment, I’ll go get the owner. He’ll have your payment.”

Jeong Jeong tilted his head in acknowledgement and watched the young man enter another back room. He put his hands behind his back and paced the room a few times, and then his gaze drifted to the open door that led to the front of the shop. A few people milled around browsing. A woman studied a small dagger, measuring it against her thigh, then put it down to look at sheaths. Self-defense, most likely. An older man gazed at rows of spears with something like nostalgia in his eyes. A former soldier, but one who probably hadn’t seen much active combat. Two young men walked past a display of swords, and Jeong Jeong rolled his eyes. He’d know that cocky gait, that self-satisfied glint in the eyes, and that stench of privilege anywhere – arrogant soldiers.

“That’s a Piandao, isn’t it?” one of them said. He whistled in appreciation. “That’s some fine craftsmanship right there.”

“That it is,” his companion agreed. “I hear he lives around here, so it’s guaranteed to be authentic.”

“You know, I could use a few lessons,” the man said, picking up a sword and twirling it through the air. “With the war over, I’m getting a bit rusty. Wonder if he’d take me.”

Oh, what a shame that the war was over and he no longer had to kill innocent people. Truly, Jeong Jeong’s heart bled for the man’s lack of sword practice.

“Eh, I’m not sure you’d want that.”

“What? But he’s the best!”

“You haven’t heard the rumors?”

What, that he was a reclusive artist? Surely that would make him more valuable as a teacher. Now Jeong Jeong was intrigued. He craned his neck to listen.

“Master Piandao...well...he lives alone, and he’s never been married. Never seemed inclined to it, either – if you know what I mean.”

Oh. _Those_ sort of rumors. Jeong Jeong knew _exactly_ what the man meant, and all he had to say to that was that men like Piandao might be more inclined towards marriage if it were legal for them to marry who they loved.

“And when he takes students – and he doesn’t do it often – he sometimes invites them to stay at his estate. Male students,” the man added pointedly. He lowered his voice, and Jeong Jeong strained to listen. “I heard he _trained_ the new Fire Lord.”

Jeong Jeong made a gagging noise and clapped his hand over his mouth. The new Fire Lord was _sixteen_. He felt his fire flicker under his skin, and he knew a lesser bender would be shooting sparks. Many people thought such things of men with Piandao’s…inclinations…but it was another thing to say it so _publicly,_ to drag the name of a respected master through the muck in that master’s own town. 

It was at that moment that the shopkeeper returned, and Jeong Jeong forced a neutral expression on his face as he accepted the hefty bag of coins. “Thank you,” he said, maybe too harshly, and he gave a quick bow before leaving as fast as he could.

_You heard far worse in the army_ , he told himself, climbing back up on the cart. The ostrich-horse set off at a steady pace, claws clacking on the stones of the road. _You’ve spent too long in the Earth Kingdom, where they keep everything buried underground. You’ve forgotten how openly vile people can be here._

But as the cart and ostrich-horse made its way back up the hill to the estate, he kept turning it over. Zuko _had_ trained with Piandao, and there _were_ , in fact, plenty of handsome young men who came through Piandao’s doors. Jeong Jeong made himself scarce when Piandao had visitors, but he’d caught enough glimpses to know that to be true. And, of course, Piandao was certainly _not_ inclined towards women. Jeong Jeong knew that from personal experience.

A royal war balloon came into a view as the cart crested the hill. _Piandao must have a high-ranking visitor._ Jeong Jeong maneuvered the cart into its usual place, and then climbed down to undo the ostrich-horse’s harness.

_Personal experience._ An image rose in his mind, unbidden. A younger Piandao, alone, abandoned with no explanation. His lover a traitor wanted dead or alive. Years going by with no communication, the hope of reconnection slowly dwindling. Standing at the forge crafting his swords, building his business, purchasing his estate. Taking on a young, handsome man as a student, and finding solace in his arms, a comfort for his broken heart. Letting him go. Another young man taking his place. And then another.

Jeong Jeong shook his head fiercely, trying to dislodge the images and the nausea that crept up his throat. The ostrich-horse made a growling noise at him. “Come on, now,” he muttered, and led the horse to its stable. “There you go,” he said, closing the door behind him. The ostrich-horse let out another growl and then settled down to munch on some feed.

“You’re right,” he said to it. He had no right to be jealous of Piandao’s hypothetical past lovers. It wasn’t as though he had been around. After what he’d done, Piandao had every right to move on. And as for the Fire Lord…He grimaced. _That_ was just a crass insult, based on vile stereotypes. Maybe they were right about Piandao and his adult students, but they were wrong about Piandao’s character. He was a good man, and though much had changed since they’d first met, that had not. _Could_ not.

The doors of the estate swung wide for Jeong Jeong, and he made his way towards his room, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous hallways. The place was truly enormous, and he wondered how lonely Piandao must have been all these years, alone in these walls. Jeong Jeong understood the appeal of solitude, of course, but it was preferable when surrounded by life, the rush of water and the warmth of the sun and the skittering of animals in the trees. Not cold, unfeeling stone. Truly, Jeong Jeong couldn’t fault him for finding comfort in his visitors.

Even though it felt like being stabbed in the heart.

_It’s my fault_ , he reminded himself. _I left him._

As he turned down the hallway to his room, he heard voices coming from a room he knew to be Piandao’s private study. One voice seemed weak and wavering, the other steady and kind. Piandao’s voice, recognizable even without the words.

Concerned, he stopped and peeked in.

Piandao embraced a young man with black hair pulled into a topknot. Jeong Jeong could see the large burn scar wrapping around the side of the young man’s face and ear.

His stomach dropped.

The Fire Lord. In Piandao’s arms.

Piandao made eye contact with Jeong Jeong over top of the boy’s head. His eyes were fiercely protective, angry at Jeong Jeong for his intrusion.

Jeong Jeong was not strong, not in the face of an expression like that.

And so, he turned and ran.

* * *

A knock on his door. “Jeong Jeong? Would you join us for dinner?”

Jeong Jeong opened his eyes and exhaled. The candles in front of him burned brighter for a moment, then ebbed. 

“Jeong Jeong?”

Images flashed across his mind, Piandao’s dark eyes, the look of betrayal, arms around a young man. The candles flared up, and then blew out.

The door opened, and Piandao stepped inside, in all his regal glory, elegant flowing robes and neat topknot and chiseled cheekbones. Jeong Jeong became keenly aware of his servant’s clothes, his wild hair, and the smoking candles in front of him that plainly indicated a loss of control.

“Are you all right?” Piandao asked softly, descending to his knees beside Jeong Jeong and setting a gentle hand on his back.

Jeong Jeong flinched away, and Piandao didn’t put his hand back.

“What’s wrong?”

“You know,” was all Jeong Jeong managed, through gritted teeth.

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

Jeong Jeong looked up at him. “I would have understood if you’d moved on after I left. But like this, Piandao?”

Piandao furrowed his brow, and then his eyes went wide, open and vulnerable and wounded. “What do you mean? I…” He swallowed. “I never got over you. There were others, but I have been alone for a long time, Jeong Jeong.”

The break in his voice, the grief plain on his face – it was so honest, that the pieces of Jeong Jeong’s heart dared to hope. The unfamiliar flame sparked inside him, the one that felt like life, like the sunlight on his skin and not the flames of war.

“I heard a rumor in town today,” he said. “They said you take comfort in the arms of your students. That you... _trained_ the Fire Lord.”

Piandao looked up, eyebrows raised in shock. “You know I wouldn’t.”

“I saw you with the Fire Lord In your embrace,” Jeong Jeong said. “And I...” He broke off, his mouth thick with shame. How could he have, even for a moment, believed something so terrible about this man, who’d never given up on him? Piandao had every right to exile him from the estate, tell him to leave and never come back, that he would never let Jeong Jeong break his heart again.

_I’ve done it again. I’ve hurt the only person who cares about me._

But to his surprise, Piandao’s shocked expression melted away. “It’s hard for you to trust, isn’t it?”

Jeong Jeong’s shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Piandao. For everything. For leaving you alone without a word, for never contacting you all these years. I wanted to protect you from my disgrace. You have always been too good, too honorable for me.” He bent his head. “I don’t deserve your faith in me. If you want me to leave, I can go.”

Piandao put a hand on his back, and this time, Jeong Jeong didn’t flinch away. “I never thought you were a disgrace,” Piandao said. “I thought you were brave. And I hoped you were alive, all those years.” He leaned in closer, until they were face to face, and his other hand cradled Jeong Jeong’s cheek. “I still loved you. I love you now. Please believe me. I want you here.”

Jeong Jeong allowed himself to give into the touch, closing his eyes and tilting his head into the warmth of Piandao’s palm. They were close enough that the smell of firebending soot and sweat mingled with the delicate scents of ink and tea that clung to Piandao’s robes, the unrefined and the refined blending into something that was distinctly _them_ , together.

“I never stopped loving you either,” Jeong Jeong said.

Strong, firm arms pulled him in closer, a hand traced up the side of his face to rest in his hair. Soft lips pressed kisses to his forehead, his eyebrow scar, his cheekbones, with a reverence, a precision and delicacy that was so distinctly Piandao. Jeong Jeong sighed, and slid an arm around Piandao’s waist to pull him closer. Their lips met, and the warm flame – the comforting one, the one that did not bode fear and destruction – blazed to life, like the sun inside him, light and energy and growth.

They broke apart slowly, and a smile curved Piandao’s lips.

“Zuko must be wondering where we are.” He got to his feet with his trademark grace and extended a hand to Jeong Jeong, who took it, relishing the feeling of the calluses against his hand. He didn’t let go, even when he too was on his feet.

“Why were you hugging the Fire Lord, anyway?” Jeong Jeong asked.

A sad look passed over Piandao’s face. “The boy’s had a rough life. He needed some fatherly guidance.”

Jeong Jeong frowned. “Isn’t that Iroh’s job? He’s _his_ precious nephew.”

“You and I both know Iroh has his blind spots. Sometimes a young man needs guidance from men of...our persuasion.”

“Our persuasion?” A dawning realization. “I’m not surprised.”

“I wasn’t either,” Piandao confessed.

“I assume his next order of business is repealing Sozin’s old laws?”

“When he returns to Caldera, yes.”

“Good. About time.”

Piandao nodded in agreement. “That it is.”

Injustice would not end with the repeal of laws, with one Fire Lord. Ending the war did not bring back those who had been lost, didn’t rebuild the homes and cultures devastated. But maybe the young would live happier lives than those who had come before them, would live in a world that was just a bit kinder, a bit more free.

The last rays of daylight sun bathed the two men in their glow as they walked together, hand in hand, into the future.


End file.
